Patrick
by little-borgia
Summary: Set pre-series. When Victoria meets Conrad and his newly adopted son, Patrick, she'll stop at nothing to get her little boy back.
1. Chapter 1

Conrad strolled up the stairs to Grayson Manor, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He was feeling better. He had left work early. After months of fighting, Stevie had agreed. They'd been married for nearly four years and he was ready to start a family. She promised him she'd stop drinking and try.

The minute he stepped inside, he knew. He felt the knot forming in his stomach. Sure enough, she was in the master bathroom.

"Stevie, darling," he whispered sadly. She had passed out, her head in the toilet. He helped her sit up. The smell made him nauseous. Not only had she been sick and passed out with her blond hair soaking up the vomit, she had that stale booze stench on her. He carried her to the tub, wondering how a woman could be so blacked out that she didn't notice her husband washing her hair and body. He cleaned her hair, washing all the bodily remains from it and wiped the smeared mascara from her cheeks before dressing her in cotton pajamas.

Her green eyes opened slowly as he placed the flowers by her nightstand. "Conrad," she smiled, reaching a hand into the air. "Bring me a drink."

"You've had enough. You promised me you'd stop drinking," he reminded her softly. "We want a baby, don't we?"

Stevie cackled that cruel, drunk laugh. "I'll never birth your demon spawn," she sneered before passing out again.

Conrad went to the guest room, opening the doors to the balcony for some fresh air. He let himself pretend his eyes watered from the wind but deep down there was no denying it. Married life wasn't how he imagined. He was working hard to build an empire, to take over the family business. Instead of feeling happy, he felt he was drowning in his sorrows. He stared out at the sea, wondering if anyone would miss the great Conrad Grayson if he died. He knew the answer. He was a wealthy man, but he had no one. He was all alone.

The phone rang, interrupting him. He frowned, not in the mood to deal with anyone.

"Hello?" He demanded.

"Conrad Grayson?"

"Who is this?"

"This is Sister Helen. I'm sorry to call you so late, but we need help-"

"Help? How?"

"Our budget is so low and I don't know ... it doesn't ... he just showed up..."

"Who just showed up?" He asked, his tone softening. "Did the orphanage get audited?"

"No, no. A boy. A little boy. On the playground. He just walked in with the rest of our children. No one knows anything."

"I'll be down in a little. I can drop the money off myself," he promised.

He knew before he stepped up to the orphanage. A group of kids were pushing a little toddler down.

"You don't belong here!" One yelled.

"Where are your parents?"

"You'll never get adopted!"

"Even the orphanage doesn't want you!"

The boys saw Conrad and raced off, giggling with each other at their victory over the much smaller kid. The kid turned quickly, and Conrad knew he was trying not to cry.

"Hey, what is your name?" He asked, bending down to the toddler.

"Patrick," the boy whispered. He looked at Conrad with beautifully broken brown eyes. Conrad had never seen such sad eyes.

"Why are you so sad, Patrick?" Conrad asked, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. "Did you lose your parents?"

"I don't have parents," he whispered sadly. After a moment he continued. "You can go talk to those other boys. They're better than me," he said sadly.

"I don't think that's possible," he whispered, unable to hide an amused smile as the boys stomach growled loudly. "Say, I've been hungry for a big burger and some fries. Do you think you'd like to join me?"

"Do you mean like a friend?" Patrick asked, licking his lips at the mention of food.

"Yes, but maybe also like a father and son," he offered.

"You want to be my daddy?" Patrick asked, giving Conrad the first smile.

"If you want," he said softly.

"Yes. More than anything!" Patrick smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

By the end of the day, Conrad had pulled enough strings to adopt Patrick. He had his decorator furnishing the child's room while they ate dinner and had all the trendiest boutiques send a full wardrobe for the boy. He called his parents, explaining his whim. While they found it non-traditional, one glance at the toddler was all it took for Eleanor and Edward Grayson to fall in love.

"He's a beautiful little boy. Absolutely perfect," Eleanor whispered, watching Patrick color with Edward.

"He has the saddest brown eyes," Conrad admitted. "Even when he's happy, he's still so hurt underneath it all."

"He's young. He'll forget that pain. You did the right thing."

"You didn't even ask," Stevie hissed, glaring at the boy.

"I made it quite clear. I want to be a father," Conrad said sternly. "If you can't provide me with what I want, I'll find it elsewhere." He glared at his wife; his implications were clear.

"He's an orphan. There's a reason he wasn't wanted," Stevie snapped.

"You listen to me, that boy is precious. He's a gift, Stevie. It should motivate you to be a better person. To be a better mother," Eleanor said, her tone harsh.

"He didn't motivate his own mother."

"Stevie!" Conrad hissed, glancing at the boy, terrified Patrick would hear. "Enough. You don't know his mother-"

"Nor do you," she reminded him.

"She must have loved him immensely to want a better life for him."

"She probably wanted to get a drink and couldn't afford a bar tab and a babysitter. That's why a woman should choose when she wants to be a mother," she reminded him, downing another glass of wine. Conrad looked at his mother. He hated to disappoint his parents, but his marriage was crumbling. He couldn't even look at Stevie without feeling the resentment build.

He watched the boy long after Patrick fell asleep. He wondered about his parents. He must have had a beautiful mother, but he wondered about each trait of Patrick's. Who had he gotten those sad, brown eyes from? The long eyelashes? The love of drawing? The quietness that got attention without demanding it? He kissed the boys head, carrying him up to his new room.

The next day, Patrick stayed with his grandparents while he worked. On his lunch, Conrad tried a new deli. As he ate, he stared across the street at the art gallery. He didn't understand it, but he felt compelled to go in. He had never been an art fan, but he knew Patrick loved art.

Inside, he saw two girls talking to each other. One immediately noticed him. She was short and lean with big blonde curls. The blonde hair resembled Stevie and he felt the ache in his stomach when he thought of his wife. It made him nauseous to even wave back at the blonde. The other, a tall and petite woman, barely glanced at him. She wasn't his normal type. She had dark hair and dark eyes and a presence that reminded him of an evil queen in a fairy tale. Yet she had such a deep laugh and dimples as she smiled to the other girl. Conrad smiled when he saw her laughing, which caught her eye. She whispered to the blonde, waving a hand loosely his direction as if delegating him to the blonde. The blonde approached as the brunette stayed close to a man in paint covered clothes.

"See anything you like?" The blonde purred.

"The other girl didn't want to assist me?" He asked.

"She's got a boyfriend."

"Is she selling paintings or herself?" He asked, playfully watching this brunette. The blonde wasn't sure how to react. Instead of replying, she walked back over to the brunette. With a slight eye roll, the brunette let herself slink towards him.

"I understand you've been asking about me," she said. Her tone made it impossible for him to tell if she was asking or accusing. He stared her up and down. She was so beautiful that she made the paintings seem dull in comparison. He wondered if he had ever thought that way about Stevie. He knew he hadn't. He hadn't thought this way about any other women. And watching the brunette, he didn't think he ever would.

"I noticed you wave me off," he mimicked her hand movement.

"Arrogant to assume it had to do with you," she said, the corners of her mouth turning into the slightest smile.

"What is your name?" He asked, ignoring her accusation.

"Vicky."

"Victoria?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone calls me Vicky," she repeated.

"But Victoria suits you. Like the Queen."

She rolled her eyes. She was used to men flirting with her, but none quite like this.

"What are you looking for? Purely artwork, I mean..."

"Arrogant to assume otherwise," he fired back. She smiled, flashing her dimples. Not many men could keep up with her. This man kept her on her toes. She liked that. "I'm searching for a painting to impress my son."

"Who is your sons favorite artist?" She asked.

"He's 3," he said quickly. He noticed a strange flash in her eyes, as if the age triggered something in her. He was practically hypnotized. She had the same sadness in her eyes, laying just below the surface. "Do you have kids?" He blurted, knowing she reminded him of Patrick.

"No, I don't have children," the words were hard for her to say. She had been asked before, she didn't know why it felt more like a lie now than any other time.

"But did you ever? Give birth, I mean," he blurted.

"What exactly are you accusing me of?" Her tone hardened defensively.

"I'm sorry. My son... I adopted him. Recently. He was ... his mother ..." he stammered, his face turning red. "You have the same eyes as my son, Patrick. You remind me of him. I'm sorry..." he headed to the door, mortified at the way he acted. He had been around beautiful women, but something about this woman had caught him off guard.

"Patrick," she whispered, breathing heavily. She raced out to the street, chasing the man. When she caught up, she grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean ... do you want to get a coffee?" She asked softly, her brown eyes desperately pleading for him to agree. He agreed and she rewarded him with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't easy, but Victoria convinced Conrad to bring her back to his house. She pretended that she wanted to get a feel for styles of artwork Patrick would like. Deep down, she knew Conrad was a sucker. A 3 year old has no real sense of artistic style, but she needed to see if it was the same little boy. Besides, when she was satisfied that it wasn't, she'd offer Conrad an amazing deal on a painting. Maybe she'd even give him an original out of guilt. She braced herself, reminding herself that it couldn't be Patrick. There are millions of little boys in New York and Patrick is a common name.

She followed Conrad, secretly pleased at the sound of her high heels on the marble floors.

"Your home is beautiful," she whispered.

"It's a summer home. My wife hates it."

"Maybe it isn't big enough for her," Victoria joked playfully. She felt a small victory when Conrad glanced back, as if they had a secret understanding.

He lead her to the back porch, where Stevie lay out on a pool chair. Victoria felt her nose wrinkling, she could smell the booze from here. She immediately saw the little boy, sitting in the grass all alone. She stepped away from Conrad, moving towards the child.

"You must be Patrick," she smiled, gasping when he looked up at her. It couldn't be. Her eyes immediately felt watery.

"You're pretty. What's your name?" Patrick asked, glancing at Victoria with the same brown eyes.

"Victoria," she said softly. "Do you like it here?"

"I like my dad," he smiled. "He says we're buddies. We ate burgers together!"

"You like your dad?" She smiled with a laugh. She felt grateful, considering how deeply she needed to protect Patrick from his biological father, Jimmy.

"I just wish he didn't work so much. It's okay the times Grandma comes..."

"And the other times?" She whispered. Patrick's big brown eyes looked to Stevie and then looked down. "Your mother watches you?" She forced herself to ask.

"She's not my mom," he glanced down, defeated.

"What do you mean?"

"She tells me. She's not my mom. She can't stand the street rat."

"She calls you this?" Victoria felt her cheeks redden. The boy nodded.

"She yells a lot. She's scary," he whimpered. "I wish you were my Mommy."

"I'll do whatever it takes to stay close by," she promised him, kissing his tiny fingers. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. She glanced back, noticing Conrad was returning from his phone call. Suddenly, she knew what needed done. She hated herself, but she gently kicked his ball towards the pool. "Your ball! Go get it!" She cried.

Sure enough, Patrick raced after it, going headfirst into the pool. He cried out, splashing without knowing how to swim. Stevie remained passed out, never waking.

"Patrick!" Victoria screamed, loud enough to catch Conrad's attention. She raced forward, jumping into the pool fully clothed. "I've got you," she whispered, clutching the boy, who wrapped his arms around her neck. She got out of the pool, her navy blue dress completely soaked.

"You saved my son's life!" Conrad cried. "Let's get you some dry clothes, both of you..." he ushered the two inside. Patrick went into his room, determined to dress himself. Conrad lead Victoria to Stevie's room.

"Mister Grayson," she started.

"Conrad."

"Conrad," she smiled. "Can I talk openly to you?"

"Of course," he turned, trying not to notice the way her dress clung to her curve.

"If I weren't there..."

"I know."

"She would have slept through his drowning. She needs rehab, Conrad. She isn't safe to be around him!" She blurted. "I'm sorry, I just feel something bad will happen."

"I send Stevie to rehab and what? Hire a nanny?" He asked. "The boy needs people he can depend on."

"Hire me."

"What?" He asked, stepping closer.

"I'll take care of him. I can stay here," she waved an arm. "He's safe with me. He likes me," she reminded him.

"I can't ask you to give up your life, Victoria."

"You didn't. I just... I'm crazy about your son," she smiled. "And we both love art..."

"You'd take care of him?" Conrad asked. Victoria nodded, suddenly feeling as if someone else were taking over her body.

"I know you work a lot to provide for your family. I could take care of you both..."

"What do you mean?" He asked. She didn't know if it was observation or wishful thinking, but she could see the effect she was having on him despite his efforts to stop the stirrings.

"Conrad, if you're going to work so hard, you can't spend your time imagining what it would be like to sleep with me," she whispered. She unzipped her dress, letting the wet fabric make a navy blue pool at her feet. "Haven't you ever had an affair?" She whispered, stepping closer to him.

"Several," he admitted. He couldn't look away as she removed her bra and panties. "Just not with a woman as beautiful as you," he blushed.

She cupped his face with one hand, kissing him passionately as his hands moved over her body. Still vengeful over how Stevie treated Patrick, she backed up until she was laying on his wife's bed. She tried to unbutton his shirt but instead ripped it. "I can't wait," she panted.

She had never experienced anything like Conrad before. Even in bed, Conrad was controlled and powerful. He seemed to know better than her what she liked and what satisfied her. And unlike anyone else, he took care of her multiple times before reaching his peak.

"I'll send Stevie to rehab," he announced as she gently scratched his chest. "And if you still want, you can stay here."

She nodded with a small smile, glancing up at him. "We should take Patrick out to dinner. Just us," she flashed her dimples. "I could just borrow a dress from her." Victoria jumped up, quickly skimming through Stevie's closet. She found a thin sundress and slid it over her body. She was tiny enough that no one noticed if she didn't have a bra or underwear. And of course, Conrad noticed.

Outside, Conrad focused on Patrick when Stevie approached Victoria.

"You must be his whore. Just another young girl," she slurred.

"Don't worry. You'll remember my name soon enough," her tone was cold and harsh. Victoria had never heard herself sound this way. "But you're right. I'm screwing your husband."

"Better you than me," Stevie smiled.

"Yes, it's much better to reek of booze. This whole trophy wife alcoholic thing is a little cliche, but to each their own..." Victoria flashed her dimples at Stevie.

"He might screw you, but he's my husband," Stevie reminded her.

"Not for long. I always get what I want," Victoria warned her. "There's not enough alcohol in the world to make you forget all the things I'm going to take from you," she growled before walking towards the two boys. She glanced around, suddenly feeling like she was going to love it here.


	4. Chapter 4

Victoria stood on her cupola admiring the view of the ocean. Although she missed Dominik, she felt calmer without him. For the first time in her life, she wasn't running. She wasn't afraid of being caught or found out. Her childhood with Marion was unstable at best. And after the birth of Patrick, her life was an endless game of hide and seek. No matter where she hid herself and Patrick, Jimmy Brennan found out. Giving Patrick up had given her a head start on hiding and then she met Dominik. He protected her, but he was a scam artist. Every painting they sold was a chance to be caught. She was always keeping others at arms length, afraid of anyone getting too close.

And now, it was like she was a different person. She wasn't Vicky. She was Victoria. She knew Conrad was curious about her, but he didn't pry. He was happy to talk about her day and hear about Patrick's day. In a way, he let her pretend they were a family. And he was paying her a lot.

Of course, it didn't hurt that she was sleeping with the boss. The minute Patrick was asleep Conrad's attention turned to her. She didn't know how he did it, but he'd be up until the early morning hours every day. She lost count each night, but his stamina never faltered. He couldn't get enough of her and she was addicted to the way he craved her.

"You'll catch cold," Conrad said, surprising her.

She smiled, flashing her dimples. "I think you could easily warm me up," she teased.

"Victoria, I need to talk to you. About Stevie..." he said. He hadn't spoken a word about her the past two weeks and it caught her off guard. "She's not been doing well. I think I have to visit her tomorrow..."

"Not doing well? What does that mean?" She demanded, her tone getting colder with each word.

"She's been begging to come home. To be a family..."

"Oh, a family? After she nearly let your son drown?"

"Our son," he corrected.

"Don't," she growled through clenched teeth.

"She is his mother," he repeated, stepping closer to Victoria. Victoria slapped him hard across the cheek.

Her brown eyes widened. She had never slapped anyone knew she couldn't afford to be fired and unable to see Patrick but she didn't regret it. "She's a poor excuse for a wife and not a mother by any definition," she snarled.

"Enough!" He hissed, but she slapped him again, her body filled with a rage she had never experienced.

He grabbed her, pinning her to the glass door of her balcony. He kissed her, the desperation in his kiss as his hands removed her panties before she knew what was happening. He took her, pushing hard into her as her back pressed against the cold glass. She scratched his chest, drawing blood until there was no rage left. He didn't stop until he knew she had finished. Her body pressed into his, nearly lifeless.

"You need to be tamed, Victoria" he panted, kissing her neck. She nodded weakly as he carried her to bed.

As he placed her in the bed, she let her eyes open a tiny sliver. "Stay with me," she begged.

"Hey, you're trembling," he whispered. "Come here, baby." He let her curl her small body against him as he held her until she slept.

When she woke up, she kissed him softly. "You said you wanted to see Stevie," she whispered, stroking his cheek. "You've got to get up."

He wrapped his arm around her. "I want to stay with you," he smiled without opening his eyes. He nuzzled against her, inhaling her scent. "I love the way you smell."

"You're silly," she giggled.

"Stevie smelled like vomit. Or booze. You smell clean and sexy..."

"We have a little boy who will be up very early," she teased. "Don't get yourself all worked up."

"We have a little boy," he smiled. "I like the way that sounds..." he kissed her nose, making her blush.

"Daddy?" Patrick called, his voice sleepy. Within seconds Conrad entered the room.

"Hey, buddy. Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

"I dreamed about the zoo," he smiled.

"You want to visit the zoo?" Conrad pretended it needed thought, but was already convinced.

"Dad? If I didn't go to the zoo, could I have something else instead?"

"What is it you want?" Conrad asked.

"I want a mommy. A real one. I've decided who I want to ask..."

"Oh? You've picked your own mom?" He chuckled.

"Yeah. 'Toria," he smiled.

"Victoria?"

"I'll ask her and when she says yes, she'll be my mommy." He smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

Patrick swung between Eleanor and Conrad's arms. "Again!" He squealed as they lifted him while walking. Victoria laughed, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

"He's a good kid," Edward spoke, studying Victoria.

"Yes, he's perfect," she smiled.

"Have you ever had children?"

"No," she lied. "If so, I'd be with them."

"But you are with Patrick. So he could be yours."

"He's got a mother," she said, hoping he bought her words.

"You're the one who rushes to his side when he has a bad dream. You find activities to do with him. You read him stories..."

"I assumed such a prominent family would have an understanding of what a nanny does," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I like you, Vicky Harper," Edward smirked. She smiled back, but didn't feel completely confident that he believed her.

"Do you say that to all the nannies?" She smiled.

"Yes, but I don't say it to all my sons mistresses," he whispered. Her eyes flickered, nervous that he knew the truth.

"What makes you think that?" She whispered.

"I'd disown my son if he wasn't sleeping with a beautiful woman like you," he flashed a smile so mischievous it made Victoria blush. "You're a step up from Stevie," he added to try and calm her.

"I wish Conrad would see that," she admitted before she could stop herself.

"The key is proving you can do what Stevie can't," he whispered. "You've shown him you can be a mother. You've got to show him more."

"For instance?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Stevie couldn't just sit back and let Conrad build his empire. She tried to ruin it to hurt him. It doesn't make sense. Why couldn't she just be nice to investors to try and keep the Grayson image?"

"Why wouldn't she try and persuade them to invest more?"

"It isn't a woman's place to build the empire," Edward smirked.

"A princess might settle and wait for her prince to do the work. A queen helps her king build their kingdom," she warned.

It wasn't easy. It took hard work and an individual strategy for each family. She watched the Pannebaker's sons while their mother enjoyed a spa day. She helped Mrs Cromer redecorate her living room. She flirted with a few of the men. But she believed them when they agreed to invest. She never uttered a word to Conrad. She wasn't sure he'd like her meddling but she justified it, telling herself more money meant more money for Patrick.

"Victoria," Conrad whispered, stepping into the house late one evening. "Where is my son?"

"He's already asleep," she whispered. "His swimming lesson left him exhausted."

"Follow me," he said, in a tone she couldn't place. "Come into my office." He had never allowed her in his office before and she felt a pang of anxiety. What if he fired her? How could she ever see Patrick?

"Is everything okay?" She said softly.

"Sit," he pointed to his chair.

"I don't..."

"Sit." He said so dryly she was immediately nervous. She obeyed him, begging her body not to tremble in fear. She couldn't show him how she really felt. "I had 11 new investors today. Just waltz into my office," he began.

"That's wonderful!" She smiled.

"Their investments totaled 2.5 million. The biggest growth Grayson Global has ever seen and they're all my investments..."

"I'm not surprised. You're the best at what you do."

"They each told me how much you helped them..." he stared at her. With no lights on, his blue eyes twinkled in the moonlight. The entire scenario was giving Victoria goosebumps.

"I may have mentioned to a few friends..." she started.

"You went out of your way to make me look good. Why?"

"You and Patrick rely on your success," she whispered.

"Stevie never-"

"I'm not Stevie," she snapped.

"No, you aren't" he whispered, stepping closer. Her chest heaved, desire and fear mixing at his behavior. He was so erratic that it was arousing to her.

"What are you going to do to me?" She finally squeaked.

He knelt down. "I'm on my knees, thanking you and begging you. I'll do anything. I owe you..."

"Crawl to me," she panted, parting her legs as he approached. He smiled, kissing her thighs. He knew what she wanted and was more than happy to oblige. He let her control him, giving her exactly what she wanted as exactly how she wanted it. When she opened her eyes, they immediately focused on the photo frame on his desk. In the frame was a staged photo of him and Stevie. However, pressed over it was a photo she hadn't realized he had taken. It was a photo of Patrick curled up in Victoria's lap. Both of them were asleep. She smiled softly. Maybe she could replace Stevie after all.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you awake?" Conrad whispered softly. He kissed Victoria's temple as he played with her loose ebony curls. As his hands caressed her cheek, she opened her sleepy brown eyes the slightest sliver. "It was a good night last night," he whispered, his hands roaming her naked body.

"You've been saying that," she flashed her dimples, arching her back to his touch. For the past week, she'd taken to sleeping with only her red lipstick. As a result, Conrad was waking her a half dozen times a night, each time his touch more urgent than the time before. She had never been with a man like Conrad. The more times he had her, the more he crazed her. She was like a drug to him and she was addicted to the feeling of it.

"You smell so good," Conrad purred, burying his face in her curls. She stroked his cheek, smiling softly.

"I promise, I'll never smell like alcohol," she assured him.

"I love you," he whispered. She leaned forward, studying him. In their two months together, he had never uttered those words.

"Prove it," she pleaded. "Marry me, Conrad." She hated the way her voice whined the request. It hadn't been the first time she had brought it up.

"Victoria," he chastised, "Baby, we've talked about it—"

"No, you've told me," she huffed, getting out of bed. "You love me, Conrad! Your son loves me! I'm better for your business than Stevie! I can give you children! I'll give you anything!"

"Victoria," he sighed, trying to step closer to her. "I just don't think a divorce would look good."

"Your father is on his fourth marriage! If he brought his newest trophy wife around, your mother wouldn't even come see Patrick!" she raised her hands. "A divorce decree is probably on your family crest!"

"Haven't you ever wanted so badly to be different from your parents?" His blue eyes were so deep she felt that if she stared too long she'd never be able to look away. She could feel the lump in her throat. She hadn't told him about her parents. Not that she had a father to mention. And Marion certainly wasn't a mother. So his words hit much closer to home than she realized.

"I don't know the proper protocol to report it, but I'd like to use one of my sick days—"

"Vic—"

"If you'll excuse me," she whispered, brushing past him and moving to the closet.

"What will I tell Patrick?" He asked.

"Tell him that Nanny's get sick and take time off," she said, wiping a tear from her cheek as she quickly dressed. She gave him one final glance before walking away.

She didn't know why she had returned to Dominik's art gallery. She hadn't stopped loving him, she just needed the stability and security Conrad could offer. And even more than that, she needed her little boy. It killed her to lie to Conrad. She wanted more than anything to admit what happened. She hadn't left Patrick out of selfish reasons, she just needed to keep Jimmy off her trail.

"Dominik?" She whispered, stepping into the dark gallery. She didn't know what to tell him. How could she explain where she'd been? He didn't know about Conrad and he certainly didn't know about Patrick. She turned on the backup lights, giving the dark gallery an eerie glow. She turned to see Conrad's face.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered.

"You left me no choice," he looked so lost, more child than man. "You walked out on me, Victoria."

"I took a day off," she lied.

"I can't lose you," he admitted, stepping closer.

"You have a wife."

"She isn't you. I need you, Vic."

"Conrad," She turned away from him, but he pinned her so her chest hit Dominik's painting. Conrad's hands were pushing up her dress to her behind, desperate for her. She let out a stifled moan, already feeling her body aching for him. She arched her back against his chest, taking advantage of the position and rubbing her backside against his front. It was all the encouragement he needed. Victoria moaned softly, her hands pressed against the painting. When she opened her eyes, she saw Dominik staring in the doorway. Unable to stop it, she gave him a pleading glance, her eyes filling with tears. He turned, walking away. She knew she had lost him. Nothing could explain her betrayal and nothing would make it right again. She bit her lip, taking every last thrust that Conrad offered. She knew what she needed to do.

The minute she had time alone, she had gone to the drugstore and bought ipecac syrup. Already afraid of getting caught, she bought a drink and switched containers so she could toss the ipecac bottle in the drugstore bathroom. She knew the health risks, but she needed a way to get Conrad to suspect a pregnancy. She was going to become a Grayson one way or another. Conrad had left her no other options.

That night, Conrad curled around Victoria, wrapping his arms around her body. She had never been much of a cuddler, but he held her so close that she felt safe with him. As he rested his head in the crook of her neck, she wondered if that was how babies felt after being swaddled.

The next day, while Patrick was playing, she dished out her dosage of the medicine, a little less than double the normal dose. She hid the extra in an empty bottle Stevie kept hidden. The image of Stevie drinking the bottle while mistaking it for alcohol made Victoria smile. She hated everything about Stevie even down to her name.

"I'm home!" Conrad called hours later. The house was quiet, but even on the rare days when Patrick was already asleep, Victoria was home. He was starting to worry, a man of his status wasn't opposed to a ransom kidnapping.

"Vic?" He called, rushing up the stairs. From the hallway he saw the dim lights from the bathroom.

"….up above a world so high, like a diamond…." Patrick sang weakly. When Conrad pushed the door open, he saw Victoria hunched over the toilet. Patrick was standing next to her, rubbing her back and holding her hair. He was so focused that he didn't notice Conrad.

Victoria sat up, glancing at Conrad embarrassed. "I must have eaten something bad," she lied weakly, moving to brush her teeth.

"She was real sick this morning," Patrick pointed to Victoria. "And then okay and then sick again tonight."

"I'm okay, little man," she smiled as she finished brushing her teeth. "My tummy was just upset."

"Buddy, why don't you go change into your pajamas?" Conrad asked.

"My spaceman ones?"

"Patrick, what are they called?" Victoria interrupted.

"Astronaut," he struggled over the word, but smiled when she nodded. He raced off, excited for his favorite pajamas.

"When was your last period?" Conrad asked, furrowing his brows.

"I don't remember," Victoria actually struggled to think of the last time. "You'd know as well as I would," she raised an eyebrow.

He stepped closer, his warm hands over her stomach. "You've given me a child?" He breathed.

"We don't know…"

"I can sense it," he admitted, massaging her stomach. He was so excited and grateful that for a moment, she wondered if she was caught up in his excitement or was really worried that she was pregnant.

She was interrupted by Patrick, pulling on her sweater. "I took care of you," he explained.

"Yes, you were so brave and so caring. You're just like your father," she smiled.

"But, Victoria?" He whispered.

"What is it, Patrick?" She leaned down, examining his forehead, assuming he wasn't feeling well.

"Will you be my Mommy? I tried to be a really good boy. And I'll do—"

"You don't have to do anything," she pulled him against her, stroking his brown hair. "I'll be your mom as long as you want me."

"I'll want you forever," Patrick whispered.

Although it wasn't the normal rule, they made an exception and let Patrick lay in their bed until he fell asleep. He snuggled up between both of them. "It's a real family now, Dad. Isn't it?"

"We sure are a family," Conrad whispered, squeezing Victoria's hand in the dark.


	7. Chapter 7

Victoria ran a hand over her stomach. To the rest of the world, it looked normal. At most, it looked like she had a big lunch. But she knew.

She had bought the ipecac for nothing. She was already pregnant. Two months pregnant to be exact. Her little miracle. She zipped her navy blue dress, fixing her curls. She smiled softly, letting the light hit her massive engagement ring. Conrad had proposed, promising to do anything in his power to keep the family together.

She came downstairs, expecting to find her boys. Instead she found her nemesis.

"If you're looking for a halfway house, you've come to the wrong neighborhood," Victoria scoffed.

"I live here," Stevie fired back.

"Why are you here?" She put her hands on her hips, staring her down.

"I want my life back," she admitted.

"You want my life."

"You're just a nanny. I want my husband and my son."

"He's not your son," she hissed.

Instead of answering, Stevie brushed past Victoria, racing up the stairs and yelling Conrad's name. Victoria followed her, desperate to defend the life she'd worked so hard to secure. As they got near the top of the step, Victoria reached for Stevie. Instead, Stevie swung her arm back, not realizing how close Victoria was.

Victoria tumbled helplessly down the stairs, her body in a lifeless ball at the base of the stairs.

"What happened?" Conrad yelled, rushing to Victoria's side.

When Victoria opened her eyes, she didn't recognize where she was. The walls were a rich burgundy. She was laying in a large bed with an elegant mahogany bed frame and expensive sheets.

"You're awake," Conrad whispered, stroking her hair. She smiled weakly, trying to sit up. "Hey, stay laying down. It's okay."

"Where am I?"

"This is my bachelor pad. It's been in my family. It's a place for the men to come-"

"And screw their mistresses?" She raised an eyebrow. She felt like just another woman. Actually, she felt worse. She felt like she had been demoted, going from Grayson Manor to this room, despite how nice it was.

"Victoria," he whispered as if she were crazy.

"My baby..." she pleaded, her hand on what used to be a tiny little bump. She already knew the answer. Her stomach now dipped in, the same slender way it always had. Conrad's eyes got watery and he glanced down, unable to say the words. "No, Conrad!" She managed before she broke into uncontrollable sobs. She clutched her pillow, the tears unstoppable. Conrad rubbed her back, crying softly. He said nothing; there were no words to explain the ache in his heart. Nothing would make this okay.

Victoria's mind raced frantically. She thought of how wicked she had been to try and fake a pregnancy for Conrad. She knew she was guilty. She had done a bad thing and now she was being punished. She didn't deserve any of this. She didn't deserve Conrad or Patrick or another baby.

Conrad was grateful when Victoria cried herself to sleep. She was more upset than he had hoped, but he felt the same exact way as her. The idea of a biological child had opened his eyes to the world. Would the baby have his blue eyes? Or Victoria's dark brown curls? Her dimples? And now, they had both lost their little baby. He stroked Victoria's hair, not wanting to leave. He had to get Stevie to file the divorce papers but it broke his heart to leave Victoria. He hoped she'd sleep through this and wake up after he had returned.

Instead, she woke to the sound of the door shutting. Conrad left her. The realization sank in. She called security, only to find out he returned to Grayson Manor. She knew. He returned to Stevie. Victoria got dressed, beginning to pack her items. She was still packing when Conrad returned.

"My dear, you should be resting," she whispered.

"I'll rest when I'm gone," she said without looking up.

"Victoria, talk to me," Conrad begged, stepping closer. "Tell me what I can do. How can I help you?"

"You can go home. To your wife and your son," she said coldly.

"Don't shut me out, Vic. I'm hurting to but I know that we were brought together for a reason. It isn't a coincidence that you and Patrick bonded so well-"

"He's my son, Conrad!" She snapped, turning to face him. "I'm the one who gave him up!"

"What?" He tilted his head. "Why would you do that?"

"It wasn't because I didn't want him," she growled defensively. "This was best for him."

"Being an orphan was best for him?" Conrad yelled. "That little boy was broken when I found him!" Victoria cried at his words, knowing he was right.

"Just leave, Conrad" she slipped the engagement ring off her finger. "Whatever this was is over."

"No. I'm not giving you up."

"It's not your choice."

"Victoria, I lost the baby, too" Conrad whispered. "I'm hurting and I'm broken and feeling all the things you are. You're the only one who can save me. Please, baby."

She shook her head, her guilt eating her up.

"Talk to me. Please. Help me understand Patrick..."

"What do you want to hear, Conrad? That I wanted to go party? That I would rather have a pair of shoes over a son?"

"You don't drink. You don't party. And you had holes in the bottom of your heels when I met you. If you're going to lie, try something more creative," he said coldly.

"I was raped and when he found out, he chased Patrick and I anywhere we hid. Is that a better lie?"

"What is his name?"

"I told you, it was a lie..."

"A name, Victoria." Conrad's voice was cold, a tone that Victoria had never heard before.

"No," her voice shook, frightened to even say his name. Conrad stepped closer, his blue eyes burning into hers. "Jimmy Brennan," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "But it changes nothing. We are done."

"A love like ours will never be done."

"Tell that to your wife."

"Ex wife. I left your side to get her to sign the divorce papers. I didn't want to wait another minute to make you my wife."

"I mean it," her voice was unconvincing even to her.

"You'll be Victoria Grayson in no time at all," he warned her. The minute her felt the edges of her lips soften, he ran one hand through her hair, the other gripping the back of her neck. He kissed her deeply, his grip keeping her pinned to him until she couldn't resist kissing him back.

"Please, just go with Stevie. You have a life," she whispered to his lips.

"You are my life," his blue eyes were so deep she immediately felt lost in them. "Say you'll marry me," he whispered, his nose nuzzling against hers. When she didn't immediately answer, he gently tugged on her lower lip. Finally, she nodded in agreement, kissing him deeply.


End file.
